Just standing outside, the roars and deafening cheers had already made one’s scalp prickle. Now inside the ruins, the sound waves crashed like thunder, nearly knocking people off their feet.

Blood-soaked scenes replayed endlessly. Gamblers in the stands clenched their coin purses tightly. Finally...

“Ohhhh!!! I won! I won!!! Hahahahaha!!!”

A frantic gambler, overjoyed, charged down from his seat—only to trip and tumble off the stands. A Rottenhide Troll, not yet dead in the arena, sank its teeth into his thigh, tearing his lower body clean off.

“Ahhh—! Help! Hel—”

A sickening crunch of bone and flesh parting echoed through the arena. Moments later, half his body vanished into the troll’s belly. Its formidable regeneration swiftly healed the fatal wounds it had suffered during combat. Soon, the fully restored Rottenhide Troll exited the arena alongside the challenger.

The bet was settled. The victor decided. No need to fight to the death anymore.

No one spared a glance for the foolish gambler who’d just fallen into the arena.

The winners, lost in ecstatic triumph, cared nothing for some nameless corpse.

Some carried crushing debts. Others lost every bet. Still more had sunk into gambling’s grip after friends lured them with “easy money” schemes.

They bet purely for the win. For the explosive rush of victory in that single moment.

The arena brimmed with such people. But Lenna was the exception.

“Miss,” a staff member in a rabbit mask wheeled a cart past. Instead of delicacies, it held neat stacks of gold ingots. “The next match starts soon. Care to place a bet?”

“The fighter on the left is Tyrann. He’s won several deathmatches in a row and defends the title next. I’d recommend him. The odds are lower, but better than nothing. Perfect for a refined lady like yourself to dip a toe in. After all, games are meant to be won—no one wants to lose everything. Don’t you agree?”

The rabbit-masked man’s smooth tone betrayed his calculation. Lenna’s aura screamed wealthy dilettante here for fun.

Prime targets like her needed special handling...

Rich, arrogant, thinking themselves clever—yet easily riled into reckless bets. They bled the most gold.

He rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming. “What do you say, Miss? A small bet isn’t really gambling. It lifts the spirit. Try a hand now. If you lose? Consider it feeding coins to stray dogs—no real pain. But if you win? Proof of your sharp eye.”

“Makes sense.”

Lenna nodded, casually flipping through the challenger’s profile for the next deathmatch.

The rabbit man’s lips curled. *Hooked.* His grin stretched ear to ear. “How much would you like to wager, Miss? One hundred gold coins? I suggest starting small...”

A big loss upfront might scare off the catch.

Some overconfident types quit after one painful loss—the rare sensible ones.

Patience reeled in the biggest fish. That was a pro’s craft.

He pressed gently. “Decided yet, Miss? The game begins soon.”

“Hmm. I’ll bet on her.” Lenna pointed to the cart’s right side.

“What?”

His gaze followed her finger—to the challenger. His expression tightened.

“Not allowed?” Lenna’s tone stayed cool. “I prefer a challenge. She suits my taste. Her looks. Her odds. I believe it’ll be a thrilling match.”

“If you insist, Miss, I won’t refuse.”

Outwardly polite, inwardly he cursed Lenna’s entire bloodline.

Greed blinds. She was clearly greedy—easy to fool, yet sharp enough to learn from losses.

*She’s slipping away.* Panic flared. He *had* to let her win this round.

Only after tasting repeated wins would she crave the dizzying highs and lows.

Win first. Then lose. Lose again. You’d get hooked, forgetting your vow to quit once you broke even. You’d borrow from anyone, pinning all hope on the arena.

You might get lucky. Win back your stake. But by then, you’d already be a true gambler—unable to escape the stench of gold and human desire. Until one final match stripped you bare...

This cycle repeated daily. It was the arena’s lifeblood.

Simple. Understood by many. Yet fools still fell. Why?

The rabbit man feigned confidence. “Tell you what, Miss. As a newcomer’s welcome gift, I’ll give you a voucher for one hundred gold shells. Bet it on anyone you like.”

One gold shell equaled one hundred silver shells—same for coins.

He was dangling bait on both sides, playing the long game.

Keep the fish circling the hook with endless treats. To ensure she bit, he’d even deployed his ultimate weapon: free vouchers.

*This should seal it...*

*Wait—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!*

Sensing his stare, Lenna paused mid-bet, voucher in hand. “I want to bet on her...”

“One to a thousand odds?! You’d risk it all?!”

That was... a full hundred gold coins!

Was she tossing it into the water like pebbles?

Stunned, he tried to intervene—but worse was coming...

“No way! Hold on!”

“Hmm?”

Lenna tossed her bulging coin purse onto the cart. It easily held over a thousand gold coins.

“One thousand four hundred eighty-seven coins. All I brought for today. Just playing around.”

*Playing?!* Who “plays” with over a thousand coins?!

What celestial being paved her way with gold like this?

His monthly wage was ten gold coins—a top earner among staff. Yet this gray-haired noblewoman casually displayed unimaginable wealth.

*I’d eat my hat if I could handle her.*

The rabbit man realized this beauty was beyond him. He excused himself smoothly, slipping toward the arena’s shadows. With frantic hand signals, he signaled the managers:

*SMURF ALERT!*

*CODE RED—SEND HELP!!!*